Sunrise to sunset: a beautiful, but tragic day

As I drove in to work this morning, I had the urge no less than about 20 times to stop the car and get out my camera to capture the sunrise. I was so captivated by it. The sun was this huge orange ball in the sky, slowly rising into obscurity behind a bank of clouds, only to slowly peek out again over them. For 30 minutes, I watched as it got higher and higher, hoping that when I (finally) got to a place where I could stop that it wouldn’t be too late to take the pictures I wanted.

This wasn’t the most stunning part of the sunrise, but it was still very pretty. The day started out with this beauty that fascinated me. I became obsessed with capturing that beauty, even if only a piece of it, to look back and remember.

It’s hard to believe that with such a beautiful start to the day it would just hours later turn to grief and heartache for the community of Newtown, Connecticut. The sun no doubt rose over Sandy Hook Elementary in similar brilliant fashion. But I’ll never understand what drove a young man to murder his mother, eight of her colleagues and 18 children. There is no doubt in my mind that he was a very troubled young man. 

This mass shooting - a horrendous tragedy - has had a profound effect on me. I’ve never cried before. I did today. I cried because my own little boy is in school and I know I would be devastated if he witnessed or was injured or even killed through similar circumstances.

All afternoon, I fought tears in my effort to maintain a professional front. All I wanted to do was go pick Brandon up from daycare and hold him close. Though I ended up working late, that’s exactly what I did. I gave him a big hug and then we just hung out together. 

He helped me smile again, despite the sadness of the day.

The best part of the day was bedtime. I lay in his bed snuggled with him where he told me he loves me very much. And I cried, because I love him so much too, but also because hearing those words out of my little guy’s mouth is one of the sweetest things I could ever receive. I can count on my hands how many times I’ve heard those three words pass his lips, but tonight he said it three times. 

It’s almost like he knew I needed to hear it. He let me snuggle with him and hug him close and tell him I love him back. And I stayed with him until he dropped off to sleep.

My heart aches for the parents and loved ones who won’t ever hear their children say they love them or get to hug and snuggle with them again. I hope and pray that they have beautiful memories to cherish. Most of all, I hope they find peace. The Sandy Hook children and faculty will not be forgotten. 

Am I enough?

As a mother I find myself doubting my worth far too often. I know I’m not alone.

When I see stories of families who are raising children with special needs (of any kind) there is almost always some amazing hook to the story.

Maybe the mom is teaching her kids the alphabet thru cooking with whole foods that have no sugar or any preservatives.

Maybe the dad has taught his kids to sing and all six children are learning different instruments to become the next Von Trap family.

I, however, feel very average. I’m not crafty or artistic. (Matt will tell you. I draw a frog and it looks like a deformed cat.)

What can I do to help Brandon discover the best parts of himself? How can I facilitate that which I don’t yet even know myself?

One thing I know without a doubt: Brandon is the child of my dreams. I longed to hold him in my arms for six long years. He’s brought so much joy to our lives.

I will make him laugh.

I will teach him interesting (and occasionally boring) things.

I will be silly with him.

I will guide him.

Somehow, what I have to offer will be enough.

Strike or no strike, I still have lots of reasons to be grateful for Brandon's school experience

A week ago Friday, I rifled through Brandon’s school bag to see what was left by his teacher and found a labour disruption notice. As of Monday, Nov. 12, the OSSTF is in a position to go on strike. This union covers a wide range of services, which I’m going to way oversimplify by saying they are support staff (that’s not even close to being entirely true, by the way). I’m only categorizing them this way because those are the staff that have a direct impact on my son if I understand correctly. According to the letter sent home with Brandon, members of this union will be implementing a partial withdrawal of services.

Brandon’s school’s teachers will be in a position to strike in December. I realized tonight that I haven’t asked about the potential impact this may have on his daycare arrangements. I’m going to choose not to think about that part for now. 

I will say this, though: As a parent, I’m concerned. As a parent of a child who has special needs, I’m extremely concerned. Disruption of Brandon’s routine can be upsetting for him to the point that he can’t function. He loved being at his daycare all summer, but he’s become used to the routine and stimulation that being in school provides. The first professional development (PD) day of the year, I had to leave work early to pick Brandon up. The change in routine was so drastic and even with preparation, he didn’t understand why he wasn’t going to school. Even though he was doing fun activities with his friends at daycare and the daycare staff that he absolutely adores, the change in his routine was too much to process.

Parents have known this entire school year that a strike is possible. I don’t know all the issues that the unions are discussing and I am not qualified to make a judgment as to the union’s motivation. I have no comment on any of that. All I know is that if a strike happens, the losers will be our children. They will miss days or weeks of established routines. Days or weeks of learning. Days or weeks with the social environment. Days or weeks of progress. There’s probably a million things I could name that they’ll miss out on. 

I have no doubt that the Province of Ontario could do a better job with education. 

I remember being horrified the first time I heard about teachers going on strike after I moved to Canada. In Florida, the state constitution doesn’t allow teachers to strike. I’m sure there’s a comprehensive list of pros and cons that can be debated, but I can’t help but think that it’s a good thing that school goes on. In my entire life, I never had to miss a day of school because teachers went on strike.

For me, I don’t think a strike would have been a great hardship. For my son, it could be devastating until he gets used to a new routine. Once school resumes, he’d have to return to his school routine and that would inevitably be a difficult transition.

I have nothing but respect for the job that teachers do. I was a music education major and had to drop out when I realized that it wasn’t the right field for me. It’s unbelievably hard to teach. Good teachers should be valued far more than they are.It may sound as if I am anti-teachers, but I’m not. The gratitude I feel toward Brandon’s teacher - who is a lovely, sweet, wonderful woman - cannot be easily expressed in words. I can’t find the words to tell you how much I appreciate what she’s done for him. It seriously brings tears of gratitude nearly every time I think about it. Here’s just a few examples of why she’s worth at least twice her weight in gold:

• A one-hour call before the start of school to get to know Brandon’s special needs.
• Regular emails advising us on how he’s doing.
• Permission for him to bring a special toy to school while he acclimates to the new routine.
• Booking us at the end of the day of parent-teacher interviews to allow extra time for discussion about how to help Brandon.
• Telling us how much she loves having him in her class.
• Willingness to implement suggestions from Brandon’s therapists.

That last one is huge for us and I have a story about it: I am not a dollar store shopper. I rarely go into them and, in fact, generally dislike their existence. However, at Brandon’s age and since we need to buy supplies for some of the suggestions we get from the therapists, the dollar store is the best option. One evening, I took Brandon with me and let him wander looking for something he wanted to get while I browsed craft supplies. It was after 6pm, just down the road from Brandon’s school - well after school was out for the day.

Who was there? Brandon’s teacher. And she was loading up her basket with all sorts of supplies. Every last thing she had, she pulled out to show me and and told me how she would be using it to implement one suggestion or another from his daycare or therapists. 

I’m pretty sure she didn’t use her school board credit card to pay for it either. 

Brandon’s teacher and principal worked with the school’s educational assistant (EA) staff to find one that could help assist him during his transitions from daycare to school and back. They did this to accommodate his needs, even though they hadn’t anticipated the necessity when budgeting for staff and alloting time for the year.

The school - and especially Brandon’s teacher and principal - have bent over backwards for him.

This is how school should be for every child, in my opinion. Their individual needs met by staff who are caring and concerned. 

So, while some are upset with teachers and perceive them as greedy and uncaring of the children, I know that this couldn’t be further from the truth - at least not all the time. I sincerely hope that a strike doesn’t happen. In truth, I wish that the government would find a way to ensure that a strike never happens again. However, I would not want them to do so in such a way that would suffocate the teachers’ and other education staff’s right to better working conditions and/or pay. 

As the daughter of a special education teacher, I can’t help but support teachers like Brandon’s who exemplify what I’ve always hoped my son would experience with his teachers. I’ve experienced first-hand, from watching my mom, just how hard teachers who care work for their students. I’ve felt the impact of having teachers who are passionate about helping kids learn. I value that contribution to the world at large and I’ll always be grateful when we are blessed with teachers like Brandon’s. 

I'm done coasting...time to accelerate

I was reading a friend’s blog today and I saw my blog in her sidebar and it showed my last update as 5 weeks ago. 

!!!

I write what I want to write, when I want to write it.Surprisingly, it does and doesn’t feel like it’s been that long to me. It’s been a long time since I neglected to update my blog for so long, but so long as I’m not obligated to create content for anyone other than me, myself and I, this blog won’t be having regular updates unless I have time.

The thing is, right now, time is in short supply:

Exhibit A

Social Capital 2012 is over so the last minute rush is done, but planning for next year will begin very soon.

Exhibit B

I started this business with Lara and things are going really well. (You should have seen my ear-to-ear grin as she and I discussed recent developments the other day. We’re very excited. I’ve never had to work so hard before, but I’ve also never enjoyed what I’m doing as much as this.) I also wouldn’t want to be doing this with anyone but Lara - she’s an amazing person to work with.

Exhibit C

There’s also the appointments, phone calls, emails, paperwork, and everything else associated with getting Brandon assessed. It’s a long process that doesn’t end with the assessments and I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I’ve been so fortunate that many people in my life are experienced in this process or work in the system. I’m stumbling through but I’m not tripping and falling - I owe that to the amazing friends (some new, some old) that have jumped in to save me.

Exhibit D

Oh yeah, there’s also the small matter that Brandon has switched daycares twice this year and will soon be starting school. And, omg, doing all of this while ramping up the assessment process? Pass me a Tums or 20, please? Or a beer. Or wine. Chocolate works too. Any vice will do.

Exhibit E

How on earth do I have time to hold down a full-time job, too!?!? Well, actually, the business is doing well and I have reduced my hours and my boss and colleagues have all been incredibly supportive of what I’m doing - with Brandon and the business.

In short, this year has been one of the most stressful of my life. I’m not ready to go into all the details (and I may never be) of how this year has impacted me - mentally, emotionally and physically - but suffice it to say I’m on a constant roller coaster. Great highs followed by low lows and all I want is to not burn out.

I can’t burn out.

Fortunately, I know this is temporary. I’m in the short-term pain part of long-term gain. I’m making a conscious choice to work hard. It’s not easy and I don’t complain (except to Lara occasionally - she’s allowed to complain to me too).

Don’t think for a minute that this is only about the business. There is short-term pain (okay, probably not all that short) in the process of getting Brandon assessed and treated as well. But it is SO worth it. HE is worth it. 

I’m glad I went over a month not writing. I’m pretty sure I haven’t blogged anywhere in the last month. Not on my business blog (Thanks, Lara! - see? Amazing partner!), not here and maybe once on Kids in the Capital.

I coasted through August and took it easy. I played games, spent more time with Brandon, read books, tried to do more around my house (though I wasn’t very successful) and generally took a much-needed break. Everything is going to ramp up in the next week and the fall is looking like it’s going to be ridiculously busy. 

Thank goodness I took a little breather. 

Bring it, fall. I’m ready.

A person's a person, no matter how small

Something interesting happened yesterday when we picked Brandon up from daycare. Matt and I walked in and Brandon had been transformed…into a princess! The kids were having a great time playing dressup and Brandon had on this fantastic princess costume that I would totally wear if I was him, too.

His teacher told me that they’d been taking pictures earlier in the day and he saw one and pointed at it and that’s where the quote in the picture came from: “Look at her! He’s a princess!” I can totally hear my little guy saying that and it made me laugh. 

When he didn’t want to leave the dress behind, his teacher jumped in with an offer to let him wear it home if he brought it back. (She wins teacher of the year, by the way.) When we got home, he sat on the front step looking ridiculously cute in the dress, with is crown, wand and the always necessary sporty sunglasses. The moment had to be recorded.

I posted the picture to Facebook and received more likes and comments than I have on anything in quite a while. Who wouldn’t like a picture of him, especially in a princess costume!? 

The comments, however, made me slightly uncomfortable at the same time as they generated interesting discussion. My discomfort was from being called a hero for letting Brandon “express himself regardless”. To me, I did nothing apart from allowing him to continue to play in a way that he wanted to. He’s starting to practice imaginary play and that’s beyond exciting to me. The last thing I’m going to do is squash it by telling him he’s a boy so he can’t wear a dress. 

And that, my friends, was the issue: There are many well-meaning, loving, kind parents who want their children to conform to society’s accepted gender guidelines long before the age when children notice or care that these invisible lines even exist. This forces children to fit into a mold that fits some quite well and others perpetually struggle to be comfortable in.

My intent in posting that picture of Brandon was to share a fun incident. However, it generated an interesting discussion - with friends and in my own thoughts. Does anyone remember this post from a couple of years ago? Sarah, the mom who let her son dress as Daphne (from Scooby Doo) for Halloween? Despite my distate for the link bait title (and I get why she went there), I feel like this discussion of boys dressing as girls is far from over. Sarah raised an extremely important point in her post when she stated:

If my daughter had dressed as Batman, no one would have thought twice about it. No one.

HOW WRONG IS THAT!?

Know what else is wrong? A mother second-guessing herself for letting her son choose to wear a dress or other “feminine” accessories. But she’s well-justified when society can’t be trusted to treat him decently if he’s dressed outside of the norm. (You know how I feel about “normal”, right?)

Women have won a lot of rights over the last century: the right to vote, to choose the length of our hemline, to wear pants, to work or stay home - the list goes on and on. Things have gotten better for us! And yet, I wonder if a consequence is (even if only temporarily as the pendulum settles) that males now have certain rigid expectations of their role that, at times, make males the new oppressed gender. Don’t get me wrong - I’m not going to start the masculinist (is that even a word?) movement. However, as the mother of a son, this is something I am genuinely concerned about.

I have trouble with the concept of raising children gender neutral. From ensuring that toys and books don’t influence with stereotypes to not revealing the gender of a child. I have to wonder if this is potentially a whole new form of oppression where children may be discouraged from showing interest in something because it’s too close to being stereotypical. For example, we have lived on a construction site since before Brandon was born. He’s seen equipment all over the place since he was a baby and early on had a keen interest. (Not to mention that his daddy loves all things construction and engineering, and works in the field too.) Should I discourage that because it’s too stereotypically “boy”?

If I had a daughter, would I have to discourage her from wanting to play with dolls and other stereotypical “girl” activities?

My own philosophy has been to encourage Brandon’s interests as he discovers them. Sometimes that means he plays with a doll. Sometimes it means he plays with a fire truck. 

Apart from the obvious double standard, there is a far bigger and more important issue with discussions around a young boy dressing as a girl and that’s the nearly automatic discussion of whether or not he’s gay. Or gender confused. Or whatever. (Can you feel me rolling my eyes?)

Children are people. Let them grow and develop with dignity and respect. That kind of discussion around an adult is offensive, so why is it considered (by some) to be okay with a child? 

My son is 4 years old. I have NO CLUE the kind of person he’ll be as an adult. I certainly have hopes for him, most of which include his happiness and fulfillment in life (and grandchildren for me to love ;). I’m certainly not going to look at that picture of him wearing a dress and start wondering (or worrying) that he may be gay. Regardless of the path he takes in life, I will love him. Always and unconditionally. 

We need to stop reading so much into the actions of young children and start to question the judgments applied to boys versus girls. The reality is that they’re discovering the world and themselves. If part of that exploration includes journeys that cross over the border of gender, does it truly matter?

*****

My lack of worry about boys dressing as girls probably has a lot to do with my tendency to force my little brother to dress as and pretend to be a girl when we were children. I wanted a sister, so when mom and dad didn’t deliver, I created one for myself. Her name was Kelly. Kelly grew up into a very large, bearded, tattooed man with three daughters who claims he understands women *snort* and owes that to me. Surprisingly, his incredibly talented, intelligent and lovely wife even agrees! ;)